The Necessity of Cooking Lessons
by missoyashirou
Summary: Seven times, Souji's friends each came to a separate realization: that they should cook for Souji! After all, what's a better sign of friendship than feeding someone? Seven times, Souji was left utterly terrified at how many ways people can go horribly wrong with cooking simple dishs.
1. Rise Kujikawa and the Red Tofu Salad

_Rise Kujikawa and the Red Tofu Salad_

The tofu was bright red.

Souji wasn't a stranger to spicy food, after all his second favorite dish from Aiya was their Mapo Tofu special. And had Rise had actually made Mapo Tofu, maybe he wouldn't have been chilled to the bone by her tendency to pour an entire bottle of goddamn chili powder in every dish she made. But this was Hiyayakko, a cold and (at least as he understood it) mild-flavored dish. And it was certainly not meant to be as RED as it was.

"Well, Senpai, you did tell me to make it something light and cool, so I got this recipe off of Grandma." Rise said, smiling innocently as she bounced into the seat next to Souji. "I know it called for soy sauce or karashi mustard, but I think you deserved something special, so I went with something I read in a magazine instead!"

"A magazine, huh?" He asked, trying to keep the overwhelming horror in his voice from peeking out. "It's... Very nice of you. What did the magazine say?"

"It's this really great sauce, called something like Endorphin Rush. Doesn't that sound good?"

Souji thought about it for a second, holding a piece of the tofu up. Endorphin Rush... It didn't sound very familiar. Maybe it was a trendy new sauce with an English name to garner attention, or a foreign product that had recently been imported in. Either way, the chill in his bones mostly dissipated at the omission, after all it was probably a result of some artificial preservative or red dye that was tainting the tofu. And the hot, almost acrid smell that invaded his nostrils? Why, obviously it was just artificial spices, certainly not as hot as they smell, and he was totally just not trying to talk himself into actually trying the Hiyayakko, no he really wanted to eat th-

"Senpai?" Rise said, her voice a touch concerned.

"Yes?"

"You... You kind of need to put the food in your mouth." She paused for a moment. "You know, if you actually want to eat it."

"Oh." He stated. He had already fought his way through a lurid, pink burlesque house filled with blue lions and fire-spitting wrestlers, a magical and bitter stripper version of her that could writhe and twist away from any attack he could possibly make, and a crumbling, nihilistic shadow-Teddie not even five minutes after surviving her shadow, less than a week ago. More importantly, he had already witnessed Mystery Food X. And her omelette. And the bento boxes that both Chie and Yukiko had initially given him before he started giving them lessons, no matter how much Yukiko insisted she wanted.

The main point was a little bright red tofu shouldn't be so terrifying to dissuade him from at least giving Rise's cooking a shot.

He took a bite.

An hour later, after running his mouth under the sink's tap and downing an entire half-gallon of milk, he choked out the time he wanted Rise to come around. Really, besides the obvious problem, her Hiyayakko had a good texture and presentation. And she clearly knew what she was talking about with tofu, and ingredients in general for that matter.

He arranged a discussion on spices with her for the next week. By next week, maybe his taste buds would actually work again.


	2. Yosuke Hanamura & the Burnt Hockey Puck

_Yosuke Hanamura and the Burnt Hockey Puck_

He looked at the offending plate, wondering what exactly he had done to make his friends so angry. There was no reason that they all could be so frighteningly horrible with cooking, yet the past four attempts clearly acted as proof to this. Of course, without even tasting it, he bumped this up it to five attempts. Souji looked at the blackened, angry briquette of... he wasn't even sure.

"... Well?" Yosuke muttered, at least having the good decency to look ashamed of his offering. He looked askance towards the ceiling more than towards Souji. "Just... Just say it sucks alright. Say it already, so we can just toss it and forget about all this."

"I don't even know it what it is." Souji admitted, as he stabbed at it half-heartedly with a fork. "I'm not sure I can eat it."

"W-What?!" Yosuke said, as he turned sharply. "Are you serious?"

"What's so surprising about that?" Souji stabbed at the blackened lump again, this time more earnestly, only achieving in jamming the fork in to the handle.

"I've seen you chug a bottle of week-old udon soup right from the fridge."

"In my defense, I thought it was iced tea." Souji said, smacking blackened lump against the plate lightly. "Did you bake a hockey puck?"

Yosuke sputtered angrily, "Hell No! It's supposed to be a croquette!"

"**Oh.**" Souji said. Yosuke winced visibly at that, Souji noted, as he picked up the offending croquette by hand. "Have I done something wrong?"

"Why would you ask that?" Yosuke muttered, a combination of frustrated and oddly sad. "Look, just dump it out. We'll just go to Aiya's instead and pretend that none of this happened, alright? I just... I just wanted in on what you're doing with everyone else."

"The... Cooking lessons?" Souji asked.

"Yeah." Yosuke said, face-palming in embarrassment. "I... Don't know how to do it either. The cooking thing, I mean. I can't even follow the Junes cooking guide, save for something like one of the shitty side salads that are just a handful of tomatoes in a pre-made salad bowl or something. And when I found out everyone else was coming to you with actual dishes before you actually agreed to show them how..." Was he fidgeting a bit now? "I guess I thought it would be kind of cool... You know, learning something like that from you, Partner."

It made a lot more sense now, Souji thought, as he attempted to pull the fork and the stone-like burnt croquette apart. It wasn't an attempt at his life or multiple passive-aggressive attempts at convincing him not to eat obviously bad food like the mushrooms growing on the side of the fridge. Between all of his social link-work, his actual for-pay work, the clubs and now the lessons, he was constantly busy now.

When was the last time him and Yosuke just hung out?

"You can just ask me, you know?" Souji said. "Everyone can just ask me, you especially. You don't need to try to impress me with a dish first." Or scare him with a dish, more appropriately. "If you want to actually start lessons, I'm free Sunday nights normally. Heck, even if you don't want the lessons and just want to hang out, you can always come around on Sunday nights, I really don't do anything besides origami and reading otherwise."

Yosuke really was attempting to keep cool, trying to keep himself from looking too excited at the prospect. Still, he did flash a bright grin. "Oh! Oh, cool, sounds good," He said, "And I really do want lessons. I mean, crap I really suck at this." He then looked down at the angry blackened mass in Souji's hand. "I mean it. You really don't need to eat it. Just throw that away."

Souji looked back down at the briquette, a term that fit the dish more than croquette. Yosuke was right; he should just throw it away. But he was also right that Souji had once downed an entire bottle of ancient soup, thinking it was cloudy tea. Which wasn't all that bad, compared to the mushroom that had grown off the side of a yogurt container once or the tub of grass that had been Nanako's science project. Or Mystery Food X.

He really didn't have to accept any of his friend's horrible dishes, but Souji had a problem. And the problem was, as he suddenly bit down on the hardened briquette much to Yosuke's horror and confusion, a willingness to eat the most horrifying dishes available. Or at least, he attempted to bite down.

The charcoal mass didn't yield to the bite, a move that he attributed to partially a Hail Mary, partially a cosmic insult as he swore he chipped a tooth on the surface of the croquette. It didn't have much of a flavor; much in the way a stone covered in ash didn't have much of a flavor. Souji dropped the offending dish, instead opting to grab his mouth.

"Arright," Souji slurred, as he shot a glare at the mocking insult of a croquette. "First off. The fire alarm is not meant to be used as a cooking timer."


End file.
